


Arrangement

by macabrecabra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Genji as a part of Talon, Guilt, M/M, More tags to be added, Oni! Skin Genji, Trans Genji, Trans Male Character, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, past relationship misgivings, trouble overcoming hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 16:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8807239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabrecabra/pseuds/macabrecabra
Summary: One will pretend the other cares as much as they do. The other pretends not to care at all. It was a situation that wasn't going to go well from the start, not without admitting to what is going on inside.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a prompt fic but I sort of like...the premise I set up so it goes here. Original prompt was: uh, request for a prompt- how about Talon!Genji with the Oni! Genji skin and some angst with Reaper reacting to that? idk if this was requested already sorry I'm just curious about your take on that 
> 
> ~*~  
> This is the fic I came up with.... if I get a lot of comments, I might MIGHT continue it....although any continuation is gonna have smut in future chapters that is far more explicit XD;

Genji was terrifying in battle and no matter the order given to him by Talon, he made sure it was executed with a grace that was almost serene. The violence never seemed to touch him and like an avatar of death, he made quick work of enemies in his way and captured the objective as always. He was, to say the least a very fortunate asset to Talon, even more so as he had some personal slights with Overwatch, at least, that is what Genji claimed as part of his reason for switching sides. His reasons though were not questions too much, not when all Talon saw were the skills Genji brought to their arsenal.

The cyborg was a born and trained assassin from start to finish, there was no doubt about that, yet for all skill, Reaper could tell that there was some alternative reason for Genji joining Talon.

Reaper was part of Blackwatch, trained in espionage and the art of seamlessly blending into the background, joining rogue organizations and, more or less, earning their trust in order to take them apart from the inside out. He had smelled a rat in the system the moment Genji had joined but he had held his silence.

After all, he was just a mercenary. He wasn't hired for his opinion, just for his guns. Perhaps there was bit of curiosity Reaper had in reagards to what Genji's true motives were for betraying Overwatch and joining Talon. Not to mention the view wasn't too bad either. The terrifying mask Genji had adopted with the cold, dark color scheme really did bring out the sleek design of Genji's cyborg body and accentuate his form quiet nicely. For a while, Reaper just allowed Genji the benefit of the doubt as to why he was there, that it really was to get vengeance on his brother and the rest of Overwatch for letting him join their ranks.

Still something about the whole thing didn't sit entirely right with Reaper. He sensed a lie in Genji's elegantly phrased words and calming tone. 

It wasn't his business though, that is what he told himself. As long as Genji did his job and things got done, he could care less. Yet curiosity was still burning in his chest, a part of him wanting to know the real reason why the oni-dressed ninja was even here with Talon when in the past he had been full of a self righteous sense of honor and unwavering belief in fighting injustice. An organization like Talon was a far cry from the usual moral standings of the cyborg in the past. It only served to keep the issue always gnawing away at the back of Reaper's mind despite his attempts to just not care about what Genji was up to. 

Reaper sat in the Talon rec room, a sad, windowless room with barely any entertainment and even less use. It was a place often left empty, the pool table having a layer of dust on its once vibrant green felt and the whole place smelling of disuse. Here, Reaper had come to be left alone to his thoughts, away from everyone else. Perhaps all he was really doing was brooding, but he saw no shame in that.  
It allowed him time to slowly put together the pieces of the day again and prepare himself mentally for the next mission and work to find an answer to push aside useless, nagging little thoughts like Genji. Reaper hadn't bothered turning the lights on tonight, letting the glow of the TV and the Spanish of the soap opera he was watching break up the silence, creating an almost comfortable, sleep buzz to accompany his thoughts. 

He had been just about ready to doze off when the hiss of the door caused him to glance up, a bit surprised to see Genji enter. The cyborg looked about the room and gave a slight click of his tongue in distaste from behind his mask, “My, my, Talon operatives really don't know how to have much fun, do they?”

Reaper gave a grunt in response, hunching his shoulders as he focused on the old soap opera playing on the TV screen. The cyborg only chuckled at Reaper's response, entering the room fully and walking alongside the pool table, sliding a finger through the dust on the velvet top, “I didn't take you for the type to enjoy soap operas,” he said casually.

“I don't,” Reaper didn't look up from the screen, arms folded over his chest.

Genji paused as he reached the end of the pool table, holding up the finger now coated with dust and let out a soft sigh of distaste before wiping it off on his pants carelessly, “You aren't a talkative one, are you? A pity, as I really did want to get to know you better,”

Reaper inclined his head, just a bit, his senses on high alert as he watched the cyborg move, “That's a lie,”

“Why would I lie about that?” Genji asked, sounding honestly confused. 

The mercenary gave a snort but didn't take his gaze off Genji, “Because nothing is gained by you learning anything about me,”

“You think I'm after something?” Genji tilted his head as he moved to lean against the back of the couch, “Maybe I just want someone to talk to,”

“Sombra likes to talk. I don't. Go talk to her,” Reaper turned away and back to the show.

Genji didn't respond, his attention drawn to the soap opera on the screen while one hand idly traced fingers over the seams of the couch. Reaper shifted just a bit as he leaned back, keeping his head turned just enough to keep Genji in his peripheral vision, expecting the cyborg to make some sort of move and reveal his hand. 

Eventually Genji let out a sigh and moved around the couch, moving to step in front of the TV, blocking the screen as he looked over his shoulder back at Reaper, “Maybe I don't want to talk to Sombra. Maybe I could care less what leet hacker data she's finding,”

“Then find something else to talk about,” Reaper growled back.

Genji turned to face him, the red eyes of the mask glinting in the dark. His entire body was cast into a near shadow of inky blackness in a silhouette against the ambient glow of the TV, accentuating his form and yet giving him a demonic, almost threatening appearance, “I want to talk to you,”

“I don't want to talk to you,” Reaper spat back. 

The cyborg took the few steps to cross over to the mercenary, leaning in as he rested his hands on the couch beside Reaper's shoulders, bringing the mask closer to his own, “I know who you are, Reaper. I know you are Gabriel Reyes,”

Reaper tensed but didn't make any movement other than that, keeping his arms crossed tight over his chest. He kept his silence, not about to play whatever game Genji was after. His silence seemed though to cause the cyborg some irritation as Genji's form tightened and those synthetic fingers curled against the fabric of the couch, “You think I wouldn't notice you fight the same way? Move the same way? The same weapons? The same tactics?” Genji asked softly, “I figured it out long before I joined Talon. I came to this damnable organization because of you,”

“Because of me?” The question slipped out before Reaper could catch it, his tone wary and guarded but tinged with confusion. 

Genji nodded, hands clenching against the fabric now as he leaned closer, “Why did you join Talon?”

Reaper let out a laugh, leaning back against the couch, cocking his head to the side, “So you joined Talon, threw away your morals just to find an answer to that question? Why?”

The cyborg was silent, his bod trembling with an emotion that was hard to pin. Anger perhaps, given how tense his body was. Without a word and with little warning, Genji shifted up on the couch more, legs moving to straddle the mercenary's lap and hands rising up to curl under Reaper's mask, yanking his chin up to see eye to eye with the grotesque mask of an oni Genji wore to hide his face. The mercenary tensed, one hand flexing, ready to summon a weapon. Only a passing ripple of intrigue kept him from pushing Genji away as he waited for him to speak. 

Genji's breath was slightly labored but still so soft. Reaper only heard it given that their masks were touching now. The cyborg's body radiate heat and the soft hiss of steam escaping his shoulders filled the room. He leaned back, just enough to let go of the bottom of Reaper's mask and raise both hands to his own mask. A quiet hiss escaped as the latches were undone and slowly the oni mask was pulled away. 

The face below had not changed. The eyes, still a piercing amber with the familiar dark circles around each and the patchwork of scars across the skin.The same intensity was in his expression, although it lacked all the gentle teasing and knowing smiles of the past. There was something tired in his expression, something sad and frustrated all at once that only made him look more severe in countenance. Carelessly, Genji let the mask drop to the ground, leaning back in and caging Reaper between his arms, practically glaring. 

“I need to know,” Genji's voice was barely above a whisper, “I can't understand it, Gabriel. I've tried to reason it out, meditated on it,”

“You've become obsessed with something that doesn't matter at all,” Reaper mocked, uncrossing his arms, raising one to run the pointed tip of a gauntlet against the cyborg's chest. 

Genji shivered in response, his face twisted into a slight grimace as he looked away, eyes narrowed in frustration, “You have an answer I want,”

“But there isn't anything you can give that will make me answer that, Genji,” Reaper responded, withdrawing his hand.

The cyborg stared at him before he sat back on his heels, still straddling Reaper's lap, his hands moving to the scarf about his neck, pulling it lose. He wasn't making eye contact as he did it, a faint flush rising to his cheeks. The mercenary cocked his head some, before it began to dawn on him what Genji was putting on the table. 

“You think that is something I want?” Reaper asked, watching as the scarf fell to the ground

“No. It isn't something you want,” Genji said softly, “Its something I want,”

The cyborg's hands dropped down to the sash he wore, pulling at it, “Can you at least let me pretend you care?”

The question game out softly as Genji bowed his head, shoulder hunched and his entire form trembling as he allowed the pants he wore to sag low on his hips, exposing more of his sleek black form. It caught Reaper off guard some and he pulled back, just a bit, eyeing the cyborg straddling his lap. Something in those words combined with how exposed Genji looked right now, how vulnerable he was in just showing his face let along so much of his form, had stirred up something in Reaper that he had thought long since dead. A spark of concern and unease that was starting to slide fingers up his spine and alight his nerves. 

“Why would you want to pretend that?” Reaper asked, his voice growing softer, as if the two of them were discussing something taboo.

“Because there was a time I was in Overwatch, and there was someone I admired. Someone I loved,” Genji was refusing to look at him sitting there half stripped, his face exposed, and looking so much more fragile than he actually was. He was bare to Reaper as he sat back, resting the palm of his hands on the mercenary's knees, body arching in a way that sent a slight wave of warmth pooling in Reaper's core. He shifted his gave back to the mercenary's own, those amber eyes twin pools into a soul that was yearning, letting Reaper feel the intensity of what he said, not just hear it.

“I never did get over that crush. I don't think it was a crush at all. It never felt like a crush. Love, concern, worry. I wanted to help him but I didn't back then because I couldn't do what was necessary. Ilet other things get in the way,” His voice was coming out more raspy as he began to grind down, earning a hiss from Reaper who brought his hands up to grasp onto the cyborg's hips, “Years later, I saw how far he fell, and I made a vow to save him. This time, no matter the cost to me, I would do something,”

Genji sat up then, leaning forward quickly as he pulled his arms about Reaper's neck as he pulled in close, using his position to elevate himself just a bit to look down into the mercenary's mask. Those eyes were so dark with desire but with an almost painful look of hurt. He wasn't smiling as he moved, leaning in closer to the mask until his lips brushed against the outside of it. 

“So let me pretend I can do that and that you care about me as much as I care about you. Just let me live in my fantasies and you take what you want from this...arrangement,” Genji whispered softly.

Reaper hesitated, his own emotions rising to the surface, a conflicted rising snake coiling about his chest, squeezing the air out of his lungs. He could take advantage of the offer and see it as an arrangement. It had been.... a long time since he had had a partner. A part of him was aching for that subtle touch of human contact and comfort that he had not indulged in or allowed himself to experience since his supposed death. He wanted to be emotionless, to be unable to be hurt like that again. What Genji was offering was just that, just what he wanted to appease that itch for physical contact once more. 

On the other hand though, this wasn't a fling, not something that would be for one night. What Genji wanted wasn't just the physical pleasures. Genji was willing to destroy his own emotions, put himself through an emotional hell, just to have a taste, to live out a fantasy he held close to his heart. There was something so sad about that that twisted something in Reaper, a sense of pity he had long since thought dead. He wouldn't have to pretend to care, not when he knew that sense of pity and reluctance indicated that some part of him cared far too much and that is what scared him. How long could this continue before he cared too much to indulge in it with no strings attached? 

Really he should just push the cyborg away and laugh at his little attempt at seduction, mock him and let it be done. It would be less painful to just completely shatter any little bit of hope Genji had now. It would be far less cruel.The temptation had to be ignored if they were both to continue their work as they always had. 

Yet, it had been so long though since he touched anyone like this, let alone have someone want him to touch them. With how he looked now under his mask, the patchy pigmentation of his skin, the monstrous, inhuman cut o his body, he was starving for something, something he didn't want to admit he needed. His hands were already roving up Genji's back, gauntlets clacking over metal, scratching like claws looking for flesh to mark. It had been so long and this, Genji's presence, his words...

They were like drops of water on the parched tongue of a dying man, leading him across the desert towards the mirage to try and sate it further. 

“We don't speak of this arrangement,” Reaper growled out hoarsely, tugging Genji closer, “Not from this point forward. I don't want to hear another word,”

Genji glanced away briefly but nodded. 

Reaper sucked in a shaky breath, cursing himself for agreeing to this, knowing it was not going to well for either of them, but the contact of another body, one not shrinking back in repulse was a temptation he couldn't turn away. He swallowed hard and reached one hand over to hit the TV remote, shutting it off, plunging the room into darkness. The only sound was their breathing and the beating of his heart in his own ear against the soft scratch of his fingers against Genji's form. 

He trailed a hand alongside the couch before he found Genji's discarded mask, lifting it up and moving to press it back up over the face o the cyborg, feeling him tense at the action but Genji raised one hand to help adjust it back into place. 

“I don't want to see you,” Reaper managed out hoarsely, cursing himself for the quake in his voice, “I don't want to kiss you. You can pretend I care, but I don't want to care at all,”

Genji remained rigid, his hands curling into fists against Reaper's back and the mercenary wondered if he was going to back out and take the moral high ground in this wretched little affair they were on the brink of starting. A part of Reaper was silently urging Genji to just abandon this whole thing and be the stronger of the two. He was too desperate for contact to let this go. Genji had so much more to lose in this twisted arrangement. 

The cyborg drew in a shaky breath, shifting himself up more, allowing the loose pants to slide down his hips more, pressing that vicious oni mask close to his own, “Fuck me,” Genji whispered, voice thick with emotions, “Just fuck me already. I don't want to be able to think about how I feel anymore,”

"Fine," Reaper managed out, his grip tightening on Genji's hips, shifting their position so he was looming over the cyborg, already hitching the man's legs up over his shoulders, hands dropping to his belt in the dark of the room.

They made their arrangement, their pact in the dark, a violent physical, howling affair and mockery of the feelings that burned within.

Genji would pretend he cared and put his passion into it wordlessly with each broken cry and plea. Reaper would pretend he didn't care, swallowing back every word behind snarls and gnashes of teeth, glad for the safety of masks and the cover of darkness to hide the truth.

It was an arrangement of fantasy.

That was all it had to be but Reaper wondered how long they would be able to keep it up before it shattered around them.

Because the reality was always going to be haunting their thoughts in the aftermath.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After much debate and waffling, decided to go with this story's Genji being trans. It just fit the story better and I personally see it as a good headcannon to explore! 
> 
> This story is angsty though but that is more because of Reaper having trouble opening up due to his past. We will see where this story goes but I have a few things in mind. I'll update this story as I feel in the mood and how others take it :)

Part of the arrangement had always been that when dawn came, when it was time to rise from another night of dreamless, restless sleep, Genji wouldn't be there. When Reaper rolled over, he wasn't suppose to see anyone there, making it easier to write away the night before as nothing serious. Affairs for pleasure were easier to accept when no one stuck around.

The problem though was when Genji was there when he woke up, laying beside him in the dark, not cuddled close, but still present.

That presence was enough to make Reaper tense when he felt it. That mess of strange feelings rising up in his chest and it was all he could do to bury it all back down behind a facade of indifference. Waking up today it was the third time that week Genji had lingered past what the rule allowed in their arrangement. 

“Why are you still here?” Reaper asked dully. He lay on his side, his back to the cyborg as he stared ahead at the wall.

There was a subtle shift on the bed and the rustling of sheets as Genji sat up before leaning forward to rest his arms over his bent knees, staring off most likely. From how clear his breath sounded and the sigh, no longer tinged by a mettalic tremor, the mercenary knew Genji was also not wearing his mask while they shared a room. Another rule broken of the arrangement. 

“I needed to recharge and it took longer than I thought,” Genji said quietly.

Reaper gave a snort, still keeping his back to Genji, “Bullshit,”

He knew why Genji hadn't left, why he kept pushing the rules at times. It was because he was hungry for that connection, to feel like the two of them were something substantial. That those whispers hushes that were forced out of him in the dark as he clung to Reaper's shoulders, indulging in the physical connection would be returned.

He stayed because he wanted to, more than anything. He liked to wake up before Reaper and brush his lips over skin, a quiet sigh with the gesture. Another rule broken, but one Reaper didn't bring up as, after all, he had pretended to be asleep those times he caught Genji doing so. He pretended he didn't know that Genji pressed soft kisses against his bare shoulders and back with such careful tenderness, as if each inch of Reaper was something he wanted to cherish. 

It was only when he thought Reaper asleep did he dare to press a soft kiss as such an action was against the rules set upon their first tryst. 

No kissing. Kissing would make it all more real to Reaper. It was too innocent a gesture, too intimate. Sex was sex. It was primal and based entirely on instincts. Even animals could do that but a kiss...

A kiss was something that was done with such care and thought. It was the most deliberate of gestures to make in the heat of passion. Reaper knew if he let Genji kiss him, it would be as good as an admittance of what he felt and it would be letting Genji behind his barriers. He wasn't about to let anyone become that close to him. Not again. Not when last time it had hurt so much.

He hated himself for never telling Genji to stop with his own kisses when he thought Reaper asleep. He should have, but he didn't and he didn't know why he tormented himself with it.

 

“You've been fine all the other times we've done this. You're lying,” Reaper growled, finally sitting up, swinging his legs to the side of the bed keeping his back to the other man. 

“I'm not lying. I needed to recharge,” Genji returned, his tone more terse, just a tremble of anger beneath it, “It won't happen again,”

“But it does keep happening. You said all this the last time. You're lying,” Reaper spat out. 

He felt the claws of his hand dig into the side of the bed and he could practically feel Genji tense up at the other side. It was the cyborg who rose to his feet first, stiffly although Reaper could feel the other man's eyes boring into his back. Genji always looked at him.

But he never looked back.

“You keep letting me stay,” Genji returned quietly, voice steady but thick with some other emotion, “And I am far from perfect. Sometimes it does take that long and I can't leave before you awake,”

“Bullshit,” Reaper repeated, “Do we have to add more rules to this?”

Genji was silent. The only sound was the click of the mask as he pulled it on. Reaper allowed himself a slight sigh of relief as he moved to slip his own on. Only then did he turn to face Genji. There was safety in not being able to see the other, a barrier that kept things from becoming anymore personal. 

“You aren't suppose to be here when I wake up,” Reaper said, rising to his feet, keeping his gaze on the cyborg's mask and not letting his eyes trail over the exposed body below.

“I apologize. I had to recharge,” Genji simply said again, the response hollow and mechanical, tinged with bitterness as he moved to collect the pieces of armor on the floor and slip them back into place over his chest and back. 

Reaper watched him for a moment before turning, moving to get dressed himself, “We'll do this in your room then. I'm leaving after I'm done,” 

“Will you really?” Genji asked, tilting his head some as he finished pulling up his pants over his hips, working on doing the tie up again. 

The almost mocking, bitter bite to his words was not lost on Reaper, like a personal challenge being flung his way. It was almost as if he knew what Reaper felt inside. The mercenary paused. Really he should call this whole thing off but at this point, the idea of not coming back from a mission, victorious or a complete failure and not have someone there to press against and feel the comfort of another living being willing to extend even the barest hint of companionship....

“We do it in your room. I don't want you in mine anymore if you are going to always linger,” Reaper snapped as he pulled on his black jaket, tugging the hood up to hide the grotesque malformation of his skull.

Genji was silent, already at the door where he lingered for a moment in the doorway, staring at Reaper over his shoulder, “Fine,”

With that final word, murmured out so tiredly, Genji left and as soon as the door closed, Reaper felt his whole body sag. It was all part of the arrangement that they were trying to work out. Genji got to pretend he cared and the distance was maintained. They both agreed to it so no one should get hurt.

This was not love. 

It was sex. It was frustration and irritation being allowed to be psychically expelled in the most basic and violent of human actions. It was creature comforts and nothing else. 

That was the mantra Reaper kept in his mind as he stalked out of the room and towards the command center for the day's work. For now, he pushed the whole arrangement out of his mind. There was plenty of hours after the mission to worry about what he was even doing by coming back and feeding into what they had begun.

The only thing that refused to leave him was the lingering tingles along his back where Genji's lips had traced soft, secret kisses. Reaper prayed that whatever Talon order them to accomplish today would be able to expel even those in time. 

 

The mission turned out not to be hard at all, nothing rigorous like Reaper would have preferred. It ate up time but not his thoughts and he came back to base in the late evening more pent up than ever with irritation, a tinge of boredom, and that sinking feeling that filled the pit of his stomach at knowing what was to come next, tinged with the slow burn of expectation and arousal. 

He reached the central elevator alone, punching the call button before crossing his arms as he waited for it to arrive. As the doors opened, he was more than acutely aware at a presence now beside him.

“You fought well today Reaper, although even I could tell you weren't even putting your all into it,” Genji said softly, inclining his head some so the eyes of the mask seemed to stare straight into him, “I'm sure Talon will be pleased, “

“As long as I get paid,” Reaper growled out as the doors opened with a chime. 

Genji entered beside him, hand moving to the pad before he paused, “My room or yours?”

Reaper didn't skip a beat, shoulders hunching as he growled out “Yours” without hesitation. 

For a moment the cyborg hesitated, fingers ghosting over the number for the floor Reaper's room was on before he dropped it to the floor below and pressed the button, the doors closing. 

They stood in silence, more like stranger than anything. Neither spoke a word nor looked at each other, but Reaper could still feel eyes on him, knowing the cyborg was watching him out of the corner of his eye. He could almost picture the expression below Genji's mask. He was probably biting his lip. From the days of Overwatch, Reaper knew that when Geni was hurt or upset and trying to hide it, he would bite his lip. Reaper could remember so clearly the glimpse of white that peaked through as he pulled the lower lip under, staring forward, expression forlorn and lost. 

He had always hated that expression and when he had caught Genji doing it in the past, he had always tried to crack a joke or something to lighten the mood. Never the best jokes and really, they were rather awful and common place, but for some reason Genji would smile at them, sometimes laugh. Then he would smile, entire expression lit up for a few seconds, tired and still holding onto the trauma of his past, but so much lively and beautiful. 

Seeing that smile had always made Gabriel feel a tinkle of happiness race through his body and touch his lips with the faint ghost of an honest smile. How he had always wanted to make Genji happy back then.

Now he couldn't even bring himself to speak to the man as the doors opened and they exited the elevator, heading towards Genji's room. 

Compared to his own, Genji's room was far more lived in and decorated with small bits of life from a collection of plushies from an arcade prize counter to a few more personal momentum. It wasn't bleak like Reaper's room, devoid of life, looking empty other than the few scattered articles of clothing. 

Even as the door closed behind him and he took in the room, Reaper knew it was a mistake to switch the arrangement in terms of location. There was a sense of warmth here and it was like looking into what kind of person Genji was, a piece of his being put into every little piece of decoration.

“Do you want to shower before we start?” Genji asked, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Reaper, his mask still in place even as his hands fell to his pants to start pulling them off. 

“I'll take one after in my own room,” He murmured, stepping forward. 

 

His hands found Genji's hips, sliding over the metal there, the tips of his gauntlets pressing inwards to draw small blemishes against the surface. A soft sigh escaped Genji as he leaned into the touch some as his pants dropped to the floor to pool about his ankles. His hands fell back, gripping onto Reaper's thighs lightly as he began to rock lightly already. 

Genji really was beautiful. His entire form, was so lithe and powerful looking, broad in the shoulders with corded shoulders that sloped down in perfect proportions to the junction of his hips. If he was still fully human, he would have been the sort of figure carved into marble, immortalized as the golden proportion of a man. Just watching the cyborg roll back against him, head leaning back against one shoulder had desire burning a path to Reaper's core. 

A hand rose to cup the side of the mercenary's mask as Reaper's hands moved over the now familiar latches of Genji's armor, starting to shuck the heavier pieces, “I missed your touched. I missed you,” Genji breathed out softly.

“I don't know why,” Reaper murmured, finally undoing the latches which hissed as they opened. The heavy metal plating hit the ground hard with thunks, exposing more of the more organic parts of Genji, the expanse of his chest and abdomen, peppered with scars, a large one extending from the pale curve of his sternum, between the small remnants of breasts beneath a binder, down to his belly. The upper hip and groin armor was still in placefor now, and Reaper didn't move to remove them yet, letting the pointed tips of his gauntlets comb through the sparse hair trailing from Genji's navel.

“You know why Gabriel,” Genji responded, turning his body just a bit to start working off the cumbersome belt the mercenary wore, “Even if you won't admit it out loud,”

Genji's words were met only with silence by the mercenary, although Reaper's grip on his hips tightened just a bit. The cyborg, if he noticed that, made no indication as he finally undid Reaper's belt,moving to his knees in one smooth, practiced motion as he slipped both hands into the loosened pants of his partner. 

There was never any foreplay in the arrangement, not really. It was all about getting to the finality more than the journey. That didn't mean things went any quicker though. Reaper tensed at the touch of the cyborg's hands against his thighs, massaging the muscles lightly before moving his fingers to the mercenary's length, the synthetic pads of his fingers moving over the, for now, flaccid organ. 

“You are very tense today,” Genji murmured, “You sure you want to keep going today?”

“Just do it already,” Reaper spat back, not about to admit he was far from in the mood.

The atmosphere of Genji's room and the cyborg's words still echoing in his mind had him on edge and reminding him more than ever of that swarm of vicious emotions that swirled hot in his chest. He was pent up, tense, touch-starved and hating himself for wanting to do nothing more than hold Genji close.

The cyborg only gave a nod to Reaper's retort, shifting to push his mask up, just enough to uncover his mouth. The mask was angled up now though, the wide, grotesque's eyes staring at him almost accusingly as he felt Genji's mouth slowly pull the tip of his cock into its warmth.

Reaper let out a low hiss, leaned up against the wall as Genji started to take more into his mouth, taking his sweet time to make sure every inch of skin was lavished with loving swipes of his tongue or brushes of his fingers. It was enough to start bringing his arousal to a slow burn at last, his cock starting to twitch and rise in response to the talented mouth. It was easy to focus on that pleasure. One hand already was moving down to fist against the hood of Geni's uniform, sharp clawed gauntlets tugging to force more of his length into the cyborg's mouth. 

Genji accepted without complaint, only pausing when the head of Reaper's cock finally touched the back of his throat. Reaper didn't wait to grip the back of Genji's head harder, now with both hands and jerk his hips forward. Genji stiffened, but didn't gag. He had long since lost that reflex in becoming a cyborg and instead swallowed hard, working to keep up with the mercenary. The only sound in the room was the low grunts of pleasure from Reaper and the wet, lewd sucking sound of Genji's mouth as he all but let the mercenary face fuck him. 

The mask hid Genji's eyes but Reaper could practically feel those unseen eyes burning into him with a singular desire. There was a spark of black in Genji, that much was for sure, a giddy sort of excitement he seemed to get when things got rough. Reaper may be thrusting forward, driving his cock into Genji's mouth, but the cyborg was meeting each thrust, his hands coming grip Reaper by the rear through the leather of his pants as if to try and tug him to go faster. 

That alone just shot a surge of heat through Reaper's core and he let his head fall back to rest against the wall as he continued his rough, uneven thrusts forward. Muffled groans were escaping Genji and his whole stance shifted. He spread his legs out wider along the floor, his shoulders popping and a cloud of steam released. The hands against Reaper's rear tensed but Genji made no move to slip a hand down into his own front and pleasure himself. 

All his attention and devotion was on one task, working his head forward to met each thrust, sucking and swallowing to accommodate how deep Reaper's cock was going, groaning as he tasted the salt of precum on his tongue as he sense Reaper drew closer to completion. 

All it took were a few final bobs of Genji's head before Reaper was gripping hard to hold him place and ramming his length forward with a low groan, sagging against the wall as his orgasm washed over him. Genji tightened his lips, swallowing what was given with only a slight choking sound. After a moment, he began to pull off, more steam rising from his form as he sat back on his heels, licking his lips. 

Reaper watched him the entire time, still basking a bit in the afterglow and debating on what to do next. Really he could just leave and let Genji take care of his own pleasure. Nothing in their arrangement said it had to be entirely mutual. 

A small part of him though balked at the idea, despite knowing full well it would be better if he did. All his instincts said to just go but another part of him wanted to please Genji in return and it was ultimately that side that won out. Reaoer shifted a bit, pushing himself off the wall before moving to get to his knees, one hand rising to press flat against Genji's chest and give a small shove. Without a word, Genji shifted back onto his rear, legs spreading open invitingly.

The plating at his groin had already parted aside to show the swollen lips of his sex, already slick with arousal. Reaper let out a soft hum at the sight before him: the cyborg slumped back, propping himself up on the palm of his hands, legs spread and mask tilted up just enough to show his parted lips, swollen and glistening with saliva and droplets of residual cum. 

Genji was absolutely beautiful. Touching him almost seemed like marring a piece of artwork and Reaper felt just that surge of guilt and shame at knowing Genji really deserved someone better than him. Someone who could love him like he needed to, and deserved to be love. Regardless though he moved up between Genji's legs, sliding his hands up over the cyborg's chest where he hooked the edge of the binder to inch it up and out of the way to reveal the small buds of Genji's chest. The cyborg shivered as Reaper trailed his thumb over one bud, teasing it lightly before sliding his hands down, his attention drawn again to the task at hand. Smoke erupted about his hand, melding the gauntlet away and allowing him to swipe the warm pad of his thumb over Genji's clit, rubbing it in a small circle as his forefinger began to sink into the heated passage. 

A loud moan fell from Genji's lips as bucked his hips some against the intrustion, head tilting back to show more of his mouth below the mask. There was a touch of a smile even with his mouth open. His entire body trembled and jerkingat every small touch. The entire movement was absolutely gorgeous. Reaper felt himself panting as he continued to pleasure Genji, his own arousal already being fanned higher by the reactions he was coaxing out of Genji, a sense of heat that came with making Genji happy in any little way he could. 

The half dressed cyborg, panting and gasping under every press of fingers into his hungry slit, his heels digging against the floor as h arched his back , need clear in his his trembling form and yet Genji still remained so elegant, an uncoiling dragon voicing his pleasure. With a final few twisting jerks of Reaper's fingers, Genji finally came undone, his exposed mouth hanging wide open in a cry of pleasure slumping back onto his elbows. The hot spurt of his release coated over Reaper's hand with ever trembling jerk of Genji's hips as he rode out his orgasm, murmuring in his native tongue under his breath. Reaper lazily continued to move the fingers, only stopping when Genji reached down with a trembling hand to grip his wrist, panting hard as he recovered. 

With the mask cocked up as it was, Reaper knew Genji couldn't see him, or anything for that matter, but the mercenary could see his perfect little mouth, scarred as the lips were, panting softly, a smile on his features and a slight flush. The look of someone who was pleasantly sated for now. 

Reaper felt a sense of pride well up for a moment, pleased at having helped Genji to completion but another part was trying to snarl that he shouldn't be feeling like that at all. Caring meant he was invested more so emotionally in this arrangement than what was safe. The vicious little voice at the back of his mind whispered that he was just going to make this worse. 

With a slight growl, he distracted himself by dropping his gaze to his hand as he slid it out of Genji's clenching passage, debating on if he should just wipe it off on Genji's pants and leave. His thoughts though were cut short by a hand rising to touch his wrist.

His gaze rose to greet that revealed mouth, set in a satisfied grin as his hand was coaxed closer by Genji's grip. The cyborg carefully took the soiled hand between both of his own before bringing a slick coated finger to his mouth and starting to clean it off slowly, letting out a soft hum. Reaper felt his breath catch in his chest as he watched Genji work his tongue over his fingers to clean the mess of his own juices like a cat enjoying a delicious dish of cream.

The sight was memorizing. The care in which Genji took with the action, the way his tongue darted out and over each digit slowly, making sure to catch every drop had the fire in Reaper's veins reigniting.

“You sure you have to leave?” Genji asked, voice husky. 

He gave a slight tilt of his hips upwards, a silent invitation or perhaps more a request for him to stay. The mercenary knew he should leave then. The initial burst of arousal had been taken care of. Genji had been taken care of and allowed to reach his own peak.

There was no need to continued. 

“Condom?” the word came out a husky rasp as he leaned forward some, hands sliding up over Genji's thighs.

The cyborg didn't say a word, leaning back, arching his body in a graceful curve as his fingers ghosted over the edge of the nightstand drawer. He managed easily to slip a finger under the edge to tug it open to retrieve the aforementioned object from within, bringing the wrapper to his teeth to tear off. It was part of the arrangement that both of them at least were in firm agreement about. It wasn't just their personal standings with each other but the job they had that made any missteps or accidents far more trouble than either could afford. 

Reaper shifted closer bracing his hands on either side of Genji's chest feeling as Genji dropped his hands to slide the condom over his cock, taking his time and doing it carefully to avoid any rips or tears. 

“Ready?” Reaper murmured, glancing down.

“Mmmhmm,” Genji shifted to lean back, sliding his hands up to Reaper's shoulders, “Ready,”

There was no slow push in, no sense of intimacy. It was a hard thrust forward pressing in deep and only a brief pause to allow Genji to adjust. A sharp intake of breath rattled in Genji's throat and his head fell back some, revealing his mouth, lips barely parted, lips still swollen from the earlier blowjob. 

“Just like that. Harder,” Genji murmured, his tone holding an edge of excitement. 

Reaper didn't hold back, hunching his shoulders, claws digging into the ground before he started to rut forward with a low snarl, giving Genji what he asked for. The whole affair was never gentle. It was sex on the most basic of levels, pressing against each other, aching for touch and yet too much of a coward to admit that the lack of intimacy weighed so heavily.

All it would take to get it, Reaper knew, was to admit how he felt and let Genji in.

The fear of getting hurt again though always kept him to his silence, thrusting forward and punctuating each one with the mantra in his head. 

He didn't care. He didn't care. He didn't care. 

It was just sex. He didn't care.

He didn't love Genji.

He could only hope, clutching onto Genji as he felt the cyborg start to grow more vocal, wailing for more between pants of encouragement, mumbled terms of affection, that if he told himself that lie enough times he could make himself believe it. 

Genji hit his second peak hard, hips arched and sobbing out as metal fingers dug against leather, bruising skin beneath. Reaper let out a hiss at the slight pinpricks of pain, hips clashing forward before stuttering to a halt with a final slam, hitting his own peak. For a second they held like that, regaining the ability to breath in sudden rasping breaths before slowly Reaper reached down grasping the end of the condom and holding it tight as he withdrew so as not to risk even a drop coming close to Genji's passage.

As soon as he slipped free, he peeled it off, refusing to look at Genji as he lay there on the floor, propped up on his elbows. He could feel the cyborg's eyes on him, boring into him. If they had been in his room, he would simply toss the used condom away and roll over to sleep, letting Genji stay. He would feel the cyborg tracing patterns on his back, mumbling under his breath in Japanese, the tone affectionate. It was soothing to fall asleep like that, but it was dangerous. It only made Genji more likely to stay until morning. 

“You don't have to go if you don't want to,” Genji's voice snapped Reaper out of his thoughts, looking up as Genji pulled his oni mask down over his features, “You can stay,”

“No. I can't. I don't want to,” Reaper growled out, moving to get to his feet. 

He left the used condom where it lay on the floor, dribbling fluid onto the cool tile as he hastily redid his belt, feeling more like a criminal about to go on the run again than having just completed what was suppose to be a casual affair. 

Genji sat up, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he looked away but he remained silent. There was a slight dip of his shoulders, a small indication of his own disappointment of Reaper's response. Something lurched in Reaper's chest but he pushed it aside as he turned on his heels, hunching his shoulders defensively.

“Same time tomorrow? After the mission?” Genji asked as he eased his way up onto the edge of his bed. 

“Maybe,” Reaper murmured as always.

The answer though was always yes. Yes because every touch and press arose desire and a sense of satisfaction. They called it being touched-starved. He called it being cursed. If he could just say no, then he could stop hurting Genji when he deserved someone better, someone who wasn't afraid to love him ans worship the beauty that was his body to the fullest. He deserved so much more. 

Reaper left the room and quickly headed to his own, closing and locking the door before moving to the shower. He turned the hot water on full blast and stood in the current, hands pressed to the wall and teeth gritted, enduring the scalding heat pouring against his back. If only though it could burn away all the regret and guilt he felt, the hollow feeling in his chest at once more pushing aside affection when it would be so much easier to give in. Something though, some fear held back every time, whispering about what had happened in the past when he gave in.

It was better if there was no emotion. 

This was an arrangement. They did this to feel good and scratch an itch that was rather hard to fulfill in Talon with how little they were allowed to go out between missions. Plenty of agents made such agreements between each other but Reaper knew that the level of guilt he had with all of this, that ate at him, was not normal.

What Genji and him had was not normal for this sort of thing.

He wouldn't admit that out loud though, that would make it real. That would be an admittance that his heart was getting in the way and what Genji felt for him was returned and Reaper wasn't going to go down that path.

Not again.

Not when it hurt five times more when people inevitably dropped him for not falling in line with their petty fantasies and desires they had built up about him.

Thus again he slunk away, a skulking shadow out of the shower as he roughly toweled himself off before slipping into bed. He curled up, knees to his chest as he let out a hissing sigh, more than a little aware of the lack of a familiar presence and weight at his back. There was no warm, yet firm press of another man's back as Genji settled in to sleep. The bed was empty, as it was suppose to be after their tryst. 

He told himself that this was for the best and this distance was necessary to maintain things professionally and have their fun. The guilt and shame would fade in time. It always did and apathy would set in.

Just give it time and the arrangement would finally click in and feel right. That is what he told himself or is that what he pleaded with himself to nurse the dull ache that came with not having Genji there as he fell asleep. 

Reaper closed his eyes, heaving a final sigh and began to try find peace of mind to finally slip into the inky abyss of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling sad so only thing to do is write sad fanfiction to ease my soul some. It helped though and I feel this chapter turned out very well. Hopefully the emotions I wanted to put in come across ; w ;  
> Enjoy the pain train ; w ;

Reaper had never been a drinker, even when he had been more alive to indulge in the full effects of getting hammered he had never drank at excess. The siren call of alcohol had never gotten a strong hold on him and there had never been a real reason to try and drink himself into oblivion even at the worse of times. 

Yet now he sat at the dingy bar in the rec room of the Talon base, one hand listlessly curled about a cup of whiskey ,staring down into the dark liquid and wishing he could get drunk faster and will away everything he felt inside just like that. He yearned for that mystical numbing, burning cure of a liquid that most humans could enjoy that made the world tolerable but that his changed biology resisted.

He just wanted to forget the whole arrangement and forget how to feel. 

“You never drank before,” Genji's voice was quiet as he slid into the seat beside him, “Does it do anything for you now?”

The question was meant to be asked with perhaps a bit of a teasing tone but it fell flat with the concern that laced every word. Everything though was falling flat in this damnable arrangement of late from the pleasure being harder to chase during sex to the the guilt becoming harder and harder to ignore. Still Genji put everything into his actions, did everything he could to continue to please Reaper, almost frantic in a way, as if he was afraid that the lose of interest was something to do with his performance.

The problem though was Reaper didn't want the sex.

He wanted the intimacy but was still too much a damn coward to admit to the four letter word that would be his salvation from the hurt. Or perhaps his damnation as a voice in his head like to remind him. He should say something though, anything, just to give some sense of comfort to the other man.

Instead he ignored Genji and hunched over his drink and nudged his mask up just enough to sip from the glass. 

Genji didn't speak, sitting silently beside him before reaching to grab the bottle and take a long pull from it directly before setting it down with a heaving sigh, “I used to drink a lot, back in my youth. It was a way of just running from things and after everything that happened, after becoming a cyborg, I promised myself I would try to avoid the bottle. I suppose in this line of work though, it would be a matter of time before I broke another promise to myself,”

Genji paused as he stared at the bottle, swirling the liquid inside of it around some before letting out a sigh, “Do I disgust you?”

The question was asked so softly and it made Reaper flinch at how exposed Genji sounded. The mercenary let out a soft sigh, shaking his head, “No. You don't. You are fine just the way you are,”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Genji murmured, “More of late since things have gotten...difficult in the bedroom. I am not like your past male lovers I know. Not typical and-”

“You're a man, same as any of them. I don't really care what you have between the legs. That isn't the problem,” Reaper growled, gazed fixed on his now empty shot glass. 

“Then what is the problem?” 

That was the one question Reaper had wanted to avoid and yet, so quickly, it had come out and he could hit himself for admitting that there was a problem. Genji always had a way of finding his way through the swirl of emotions to stab at the heart of things. Just with this, he couldn't say, couldn't admit how he felt. 

He doubted even drunk his damn fear would let him admit to anything. 

“There isn't a problem. I'm just bored,” Reaper finally spat out, “I'm not desperate and need it everyday,”

Genji looked away, a scowl twisting his features before he tilted his head back to take a longer guzzle from the bottle like a man trying to drown himself. He spoke again after the drink, slamming the bottle a little too hard down on the counter, “So that's it. I just bore you,”

“The sex bores me. It doesn't get more interesting the more you do it,” Reaper growled.

“Yeah well, the sex is the only thing I can give you to make you acknowledge me at all,” Genji growled before taking another long drink from the bottle. 

If he was a stronger man, Reaper would have reached out then and told Genji he was wrong. He would tell him to stop drinking now before he ended up as bad as McCree. If he was a stronger man, he could admit that he cared.

The problem was there though that he was nothing more than a coward trying to pretend he was as heartless as everyone assumed. He was too afraid of putting his heart out on the line just to watch it be ripped apart. 

“Do you want to try something new then?” The question was said softly with a hint of desperation that had Reaper glancing over at the cyborg. 

Genji wasn't looking at him, staring listlessly at the bottle in his hands, mask shoved up to show the dour, scarred face, eyes sunken in with a fatigue that did not fit with what Reaper remembered of him form Overwatch. He had been so much more lively and younger. Somehow though, it seemed like he had aged or perhaps that is just what Talon did to people eventually.

“New how?” reaper murmured, feeling his heart wrench just a bit. 

The slight flick of Genji's gaze and that glimmer of slight hope nearly made Reaper try and snatch the question back. What would changing their arrangement do other than drag out the fact that what was needed wasn't some new tricks in bed but just coming to terms and accepting the truth of the whole situation?

“There are things we can try. Less vanilla things. I haven't really delved into such things myself,” Genji admitted, offering that small awkward smile of his, “But you are never too old to learn new things,”

“Like what?” Reaper repeated, acting far more agitated than he felt. 

Genji gave a shrug and a dismissive wave of his hand, “You know, things like bondage? Watersport? Pet play? Those sort of kinks that people whisper in dark allies?”

Reaper nearly choked on his drink and for a minute the facade he kept up fell at how casual Genji spoke of such things. Speech also was hard to grasp when he could barely figure out a response to Genji's offer on the table so he settled for shaking his head and turning back to his drink, hunching over it more, “That's putting too much trust on this. That all requires aftercare,”

“Maybe that is something we need more of,” Genji let out a sigh, leaning back and letting his head fall back as he lifted his gaze to the ceiling, “Why is it so bad if we act like we care about each other?”

“You can't fake that,” The response came quickly, nearly whispered and Reaper was more than aware of Genji now staring at him, “I don't want to pretend to care about you,”

He was aware of the hand on his shoulder then, firm but still gentle as the cyborg gave a push so he was facing him. Reaper knew he should leave or look away or anything, but instead he let his resolve slip and made eye contact. He took in the familiar face of the man before him, the elegant curve of his cheeks, shaped smooth as a rolling sea, covered in scars that only served to really enhance the strength that settled in his features. The eye brows, grown back in and thick, were furrowed close as Genji fixed him with a searching look, lips pursed. 

Everything about him was perfect. Genji deserved so much better, deserved someone so much better that could worship that perfection how it should be honored. 

Genji lifted his hands to cup Reaper's face, thumb brushing over the white of the mask as he gave the barest hint of a smile and tilt of his head, “You aren't pretending though, are you?”

That question had Reaper flinching and suddenly pulling away as if he had been burn, shifting to smoke and passing through the cyborg's fingers in his haste to get away. Some part of him was rallying up a defense, babbling about how he needed to work harder to keep him out. He was too close. He saw too much. 

He meant too much. 

“I don't want you around. Ask me in a few weeks when I actually am interested in you again,” Reaper spat, hiding behind that anger that never truly burnt out in his soul and turned quickly to stalk out and get away from the cyborg. 

He was running like a coward. Running and cursing himself and everyone from his past that provided the catalyst for his fear. The past relationships and broken trust and pieces of his heart littering the path behind him until it felt like there was only a sliver still left in his chest that he was guarding like a wounded animal.

He came into his room, stark and empty as always and slammed the door behind him. He stood there, not sure what this accomplished. There was nothing here in this room. It was a literal cell, four walls, a closet, a small door leading to a bathroom, a dresser filled with the bare minimum of clothes, and nothing else. No signs of life, no personal effects. He stood there staring at it all before moving to the bed and sitting on the edge, staring at his hands.

It would be so much easier if the cursed afflicting of his existence now had simply taken his ability to care. 

Slowly he moved to the nightstand beside the bed and pulled open the drawer with one hand, the other removing his mask. He put the mask down as he took out the only personal item he owned. A faded black wallet, embroidered with a tacky steer skull on the front. It had been a birthday gift from Jesse, just a year before the young man ran off for better fields. It had been one of those gag gifts, one given to him by Jesse as the man declared he could use it to show off all the pictures of him to everyone and be proud of his son. Reaper vaguely remembered telling Jesse he was going to fill it with nothing but embarrassing pictures to show to his first boyfriend. Just in looking at the old thing, a pang of memories returned but that was little compared to what was inside the old thing. There was no money in it but something more precious. 

Something more painful.

A flick of his finger opened it to reveal pictures, some shown, others shoved behind to make the holders bunch up, filled with memories. There were so many little snapshots and each one made Reaper feel like he was looking at some alternate life rather than the past. There was something surreal in seeing his face, not scarred or twisted into something abominable. His face smiling without tensions or worry, happiness in every bright photo.

There was him with friends, family.... and a lover. 

He could have gotten rid of the momentum but every time his fingers curled about the wallet, staring at the cascade of pictures, every time he threw it across the room with a snarl, he was there, rushing to pick it up and cradle it to his chest as every emotion finally bubbled over. The past was there with him and not something that could be forgotten. It was more a ghost than he ever was and more malicious in its haunting as it whispered only of good things he couldn't take back.

Reaper's gaze trailed down, coming to rest at the photo at the end of the cascade. It was a simple one taken at some company picnic. The sky was blue, almost too blue and bright like something out of a painting. The air warm with sunlight and greenery, touched with a faint haze of smoke from barbecues. There he stood, grinning one arm slung about Genji's shoulder. The cyborg had his mask off, a rarity for him back then, and was smiling shy and bashful but absolutely brilliant, another rarity. Genji had never smiled much back then.

He looked so happy, at peace with the world, features alight with something akin to joy but stronger, clasping the soda to his chest with both hands like it was a treasure. Reaper remembered that day. Genji had been watching them all drink beer and when offered he would politely decline. Gabriel had went out of his way to buy a six pack of some ginger ale from the store and handed over one of the cans to the surprised cyborg. 

Genji had stared at him, eyes wide as if he was able to believe what Gabriel was doing. Then he had smiled. He had smiled and in that moment, the entire wold seemed to slow for a moment.

“That smile is worth a photo,” that had been what he had said to Genji, smiling himself as he pulled Genji in for a selfie.

That smile still was worth a photo.

It was not like smiles could be found anymore in their lives, only the damnable arrangement and an assortment of twisted feelings buried in fears that made it so much harder each time to open up and let people in and let them love. 

The door opened as he sat there but he didn't look up. He didn't look up even when he heard the door close and soon a weight on the bed behind him. A pair of arms snaked about his waist and there was the touch of someone's forehead against his back and the puff of warm air that came with someone's breath

He didn't need to turn to know it was Genji and he knew he should say something. Instead he sat there, staring at old photos. Falling deeper into that little pit of self misery and nostalgia he couldn't seem to get out of. They sat there like that for a long time, Genji's hands resting against his stomach, clutched in the leather and his face buried against his back. Out of sight, but far from out of mind. He was a strange comfort against his back, matching the comfort of that single photo of his perfect smile Reaper stared at.

“Its funny, the reason I joined Talon. I don't seem the type to join a terrorist organization am I?” Genji murmured quietly, “It wasn't to harm Hanzo. I've forgiven him, just as Zenyatta would have wanted,”

Genji's hands curled against Reaper's stomach, “I didn't even do it entirely for you either,” he admitted, voice growing thick with emotion, “ I did it because when the recall happened, when I saw him, saw Jack, alive, I just.-”

Reaper set the pictures aside as he heard Genji inhale, “Was Jack really so good that I'm nothing but a replacement? Because he was a real man he could-”

“Genji. You are a real man,” Reaper shifted just a bit to face the cyborg, “And I hate Jack too,”

Love always turned to hate when the betrayal happened. The hurt and lies that came with realizing so much that was felt and shared was wasted, was not as real to both parties. There had been love, then sadness, and then the boiling rise of rage that simmered out eventually into a bitter hatred that came with no closure being found. 

It almost made Reaper laugh tiredly then and there to think about it. He hated Jack. He hated himself. He hated everyone on this damn planet.

But he couldn't hate Genji when he was the only one who had never done any wrong and he was the one doing all the wrong to the other man. Genji was the only person to make him feel guilt. 

“I sometimes hate myself for hating and being jealous of him. He didn't do anything personally to me,” Genji lifted his gaze, eyes sunken and tired, so worn with too much that had weighed down on him.

Reaper was silent before he moving one hand to cup Genji's face lightly, “Why did you ever leave that omnic monk?”

“I went to the recall. I intended to return to him,” Genji admitted, casting his eyes aside, “Even with seeing Jack and wrestling with my own green-eyed monster. I was going to go back to him and speak but I- Ana mentioned you. So I sought you out. Then I joined Talon,”

“You should go back to him. He can give you what you need,” Reaper murmured. 

The omnic could help Genji, that much Reaper knew. He had been able to work the miracle of easing Genji's own anger towards his brother, no doubt could help him now. It would be someone at least to be there for Genji.

The cyborg though only smiled sadly and shook his head, “He is a good friend yes, but there are things he can't give me and he doesn't need me to help him. His life is secured. Stable,” he turned his head to lean lightly into Reaper's touch, taking in a shaky breath, “I like it when you remind me I'm still a man, no matter what the doctors here say. No matter what my own fears tell me,”

“There has never been a man created like you,”Reaper felt the words come out, pushing past his own barriers, “Everything about you was designed perfectly,”

“Now maybe. My cybernetic body made me wider of shoulders compared to my hips-” Genji began only to be silenced by a finger to his lips and a low growl from Reaper. 

“You're more a man than I am, Genji. At least you aren't a coward,” Reaper whispered, leaning in.

For a long moment Genji regarded him before his hands slid up touch his uncovered face, leaning in with a slight smile, “I think you have me confused with someone else,” he said softly before leaning in to kiss.

 

Reaper tensed. 

Kissing was bad. Kissing made it all real. Kissing was a level of intimacy beyond just the sex, a conscious effort that was so gentle and innocent and filled with all embedded desires that words couldn't say. The arrangement they had did not allow this. It demanded Genji be pushed away and turned away like he should have done as soon as the door opened.

He was tired though. So tired and drained. He sagged against Genji with a soft sigh into that kiss. He was so tired.

Genji's hands were on his shoulder,guiding him down to the bed, breaking the kiss for a mere moment, searching the twisted features of the mercenary, uncertain. Reaper just met his gaze, blazing red eyes pinched nearly shut and the whole expression conflicted,confused. 

Uncertain. None of this felt real. He could barely figure out what he even felt or what to do. Every thought seemed to roll into some sort of blur. All he could do was watch as Genji inhaled softly, hands moving down to undo the armor pieces, turning his head away. As what was left of his physical body, torso down to upper thighs, was revealed. Reaper could only take it all in.

Perfection. 

This time though, Genji's hands rose to the binder, fingers tensing before he undid the clothing, pulling it off, biting his lip harder. It was not often Genji took off his binder before the passion was in full swing. The first time he had told Reaper to do it had been at the height of passion when he had other things to focus on.

The cyborg didn't like being exposed like this before the foreplay, bare to the world. Reaper just tilted his head some, shifting to let his hands trail over the scarred,pale flesh of Genji's belly,thumb circling the belly button. Genji shifted some before gripping onto the wrists of the mercenary and bringing it up to his chest, looking up at him and giving a small, awkward smile.

“Still a man?” he asked softly.

“I've seen you naked before Genji. Its nothing new. Still a man,” Reaper paused before leaning in to press a kiss between the swell of his chest, “Still more a man than me. Still more a man than Jack,”

He trailed the kisses down to Genji's naval and from there down between his legs and down the right thigh, eyes flicking up to Genji's features. The cyborg was propped upon his elbows, lips parted softly as he watched Reaper, cheeks flushed already.

And there was a smile there.

“That smile is worth a photo,” The worlds fell from Reaper's lips at the sight.

Genji stiffened, eyes widening a bit, the smile fading, only for a moment before coming back with a soft laugh. He covered his face with one hand, turning to look away as the other hand moved to grip onto the back of Gabriel's head lightly, just for something to hold onto. He laughed, embarrassed and the sound made the briefest hint of a smile touch Reaper's lips.

None of this felt real. It felt like a dream. If he could hold onto this moment forever and ensure that this was the only feelings they could share, that there would never be anything bad, then everything could be easier. If there was a guarantee that this was how they would always be, that they would always be together-

It never lasted though.

That thought came in then as he watched Genji turn to smile at him again, shifting to hook one leg over his shoulder casually. This never lasted and at some point, Genji would not want him and that would be that. That is how it always went.

He looked away from the perfection before him and at the wall. None of this could last, never did last.

The moment of good memories was never going to be worth the wretched heartache that would come later when he no longer mattered. 

A hand was on his cheek, pulling him reluctantly to look back at Genji. The smile was gone, and worry was in the cyborg's expression. Genji didn't speak though, only moved to wrap his arms about Reaper and pulling him close, tucking the taller man's head under his own.

A simple gesture of comfort that had Reaper's voice hitching in the back of his throat. 

He broke.

He broke and grabbed onto Genji, his emotions in conflict, unable to speak, unable to feel anything through the pain and he guilt he felt mixed with the burning desire to just give in mixed with howling fears to run and lash out. Anger and sadness. Happiness and regret. Love and hate. Past and present with future looming uncertain and unknowing ahead. 

He was aware of a crash of lips and the physical feeling of another living being against him. Clothes were pushed off his shoulders to show unnatural pale skin melded into darker tones of grey flesh like a patchworked horror. Hands, his and that of the beautiful man before him, touching everywhere, feeling like it was the first time know each others bodies despite the arrangement before.

His body was there and his mind was gone, lost in the swell and in the moment, screaming voices pulling him every which way until he felt like he was going mad. Mouths against skin. Teeth marking ownership to every hidden inch of skin from shoulders to chest. Thumbs brushing over the bud of nipples peaking them to hard nubs and earning pleased groans and sounds of encouragement. 

Legs wrapped around hips and a hot core teasing against his need, silently, quietly asking him to press closer. Mouths on mouths, teeth clashing, every cry swallowed up as they moved like it was the first time they had ever come together. All feeling so real and yet so surreal. His mind felt like it wasn't there, babbling, whispering of all the things being thrown out the window as they both broke down together against each other.

There was an arrangement but this wasn't it. 

This was what they needed, but it was still so forbidden.

Unreal.

The world shifted and exploded and they curled up together in the wake of the destruction, breathing in each others breaths, eyes lidded, neither one spoke still or tried to explain what was going on. It would make it real and neither was willing to break the dream. 

Reaper didn't remember falling asleep after that but he awoke, still undressed and sprawled under a flimsy sheet. There was no one there though and for a brief moment, his groggy mind wondered if that had been nothing more but a wonderful dream. The smell though, that pungent after scent of sex was in the air and he could still feel the slight sting of bite marks against his shoulder. He rolled onto his back and sat up, gaze dropping down over his chest, covered in more smaller love bites and red bruise marks from Genji's grip. The ones on his thighs were so very prominent he could see each mark of the fingers.

A five pointed mark of the dream being very, very real. 

But Genji wasn't here. There was an arrangement and there were rules and one rule it seemed had been followed.

Reaper sat there and stared at the wall, feeling numb. The night was coming back in perfect detail. All the things they did, all the things they didn't say. All the things they didn't do, and all the precautions broken in a moment of sudden weakness and rushing emotions. 

The mercenary hunched forward, clawed fingers carding through what remained of his hair, as he began to curse himself. 

The arrangement was broken and yet it lingered. 

It lingered and Reaper only felt an aching queasy feeling begin to form in his gut as he got out of bed, preparing himself for the day and for the eventual missions. After all that though, there would be Genji. He needed to speak with Genji about last night.

He didn't know what he was going to say but their had to be something said. Some closure or some admittance he wasn't sure of which. 

They had a lot to talk about.

He just hoped he didn't ruin it all by letting that wretched, abhorrent fear get in the way again.


End file.
